


By her fingers

by RobinWritesChirps



Series: Starkid Quarantine [3]
Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coronavirus, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Oh my god they were quarantined, Quarantine, Shameless Smut, Strap-Ons, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23635018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Jemilla and Zazzalil find themselves isolating in the same room with no specific end in sight − and Jemilla knows how to make the best of it.This is a naughty one, kids. Enjoy if that’s for you, stay safe and stay home.
Relationships: Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer)
Series: Starkid Quarantine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695739
Comments: 20
Kudos: 38





	By her fingers

Living in close quarters was twisting and switching Jemilla and Zazzalil’s personalities around a dozen times over every day. When the dorms closed, Jemilla had declared she knew the friend of a friend who could let them stay at a rental of his for a reduced price and they had uprooted their life impromptu into this tiny little studio, smaller than even their dorm room had been.

"Are you done yet?"

At least they had a double bed, a luxury after the dilemma of awkwardly shoving two bodies onto whichever narrow twin bed on campus they picked for the night or going separate and suffering the all too horrible distance of six feet between them. That had been an omen of things to come, Zazzalil supposed. Still, they now slept comfortably together every night. Not everything was a disaster after all, even at the end of things.

"Not yet," she told Jemilla for the tenth time and flicked away the pout from her girlfriend’s face. "I told you, I just need to finish this tonight and then I’m yours."

"Alright, sure…"

Dissatisfied with the simple reassurance that their students were surviving the apocalyptic pandemic, all professors seemed to be rallying against them to drown them in more assignments and papers than they would ever had had if college had still run its normal operation. This was Zazzalil’s third essay of the week and she had been intent on wrapping it up today. Jemilla joked that staying indoors was making a studious little pupil out of her. Zazzalil retorted that the same fate was making her impulsive and impatient. Being solely in each other’s presence seemed to make both of them rub off on each other to the point that they felt like one frustrated mesh of two people. They had never felt closer, for better or for worse.

Jemilla waited a few minutes, nervously pacing around the little studio as Zazzalil worked from the bed. She had cleaned up the place about a hundred times since the lockdown had hit their city, sewn a myriad of pretty colorful masks that went unused because she was too scared to leave the house more than the once a week grocery trip. She had always smelled really nice but Zazzalil was starting to miss living in a space, with a person that didn’t constantly smell like sanitizer. Still, this was more time together than either of them had ever thought they would have. This might break or make their relationship, Emberly had told her from the luxury of Tiblyn’s spacious apartment where she had expatriated. Glancing and finding Jemilla fiddling with her things, reorganizing the kitchen corner once more, Zazzalil had no doubt as to the outcome. Jemilla was insufferably cute sometimes.

Their relationship had been recent when this had started, merely a few months since that first kiss, that first time. Enough that she knew she liked Jemilla a whole lot, perhaps not quite long enough to know for sure if she loved her, though the answer to that was becoming more obvious the longer they spent locked between these four walls. Jemilla was proper and tidy and stupidly meticulous, but she was caring, warm, reliable. Quarantine was making her goofy, though more rash too, bringing to the surface facets of her Zazzalil had yet had to unearth. She liked that. She liked that, if for all the shitshow and misery this disease had brought the entire world, at least humans were capable to make the most of it. Jemilla had certainly made the most of it every fucking day.

"How far along are you, babe?" Jemilla asked.

She hopped on the bed to sit behind Zazzalil and embrace her waist from the back. Zazzalil snorted at the snuggly invasion and allowed one quick kiss before getting back to that daunting blinking cursor. Jemilla’s hair in the crook of her shoulder, the warmth of her chest against her back, the press of lips against her skin. She blinked and tried to focus.

"I think another couple of pages or so and I’m good," she said. "Jemilla, I’m really trying to work."

Another kiss at the nap of her neck.

"And I wouldn’t dream of distracting you."

At first, she was quiet and obedient, truly offering nothing more than the comfort of an embrace. Zazzalil was grateful for it. It was easy to become lonely these days. She had not seen Keeri in nearly a month, a record in their entire existence of having known each other. Jemilla was good company (a caress of her fingers across her belly, pushing up the tank top to feel bare skin reminded her that she was _excellent_ company) but both of them were sociable and suffering from the solitude, even together. They comforted each other from it. Jemilla always seemed to have a specific kind of comfort in mind and Zazzalil, though lonely and losing her wits at being stuck inside all these weeks, always took it graciously. Ideally not in the middle of an essay, though.

"Babe, what are you doing?" She sighed.

Jemilla's touch was tender but unmistakable and Zazzalil almost startled when a hand brushed up to cup a breast for just a few seconds before letting go, pretending nothing had been done.

"What do you want me to be doing?" Jemilla replied in a low voice against her ear. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop."

Zazzalil huffed. Jemilla gave her ample time to give her refusal but both of them knew it would not come. Smirking in victory, the caress was bolder, fondling Zazzalil obscenely as she tried to align two words together on the page. For just a second, she threw her head back to indulge a little and Jemilla rewarded the attention with open mouthed kisses tracing the line of her shoulder. Her thumb caught onto a nipple and teased circles around it, but dropped before Zazzalil could get too into it. She groaned in frustration and went back to work.

"You're horny as a dog, you know that?" She grumbled.

"I know," Jemilla replied and nibbled the lobe of her ear to tease.

If she finished the essay, she would be free for the weekend – not that the days of the week made much difference anymore. Another sentence, wrapping up a paragraph but before she hit enter Jemilla's fingers were toying with the waistband of her boxers. She stopped them there.

"Not before I'm done," she said firmly. "Quest reward or something. Only unlocks when the damn parchment is sent off."

Jemilla's chuckle was warm and made her skin tingle in anticipation but nevertheless the instruction was obeyed.

"So _you_ finish the quest," she repeated, "And _I_ get the reward. What kind of games are you playing, Zazz?"

This was bold of her to ask when she was half stripping her naked, half driving her mad with annoyance and, much more so, with the desire to fuck it and fuck her.

"I'm super magnanimous," she said with dramatic self importance. "Now let me work."

Jemilla gave it a minute or two. She never went past the stated limit, of course, but the hug was more intimate by the second, drowning Zazzalil with the attentions. Even just her arms around her waist, the touch of her lips at her shoulders… She typed faster.

"How much is off limit?" Jemilla asked much too soon. Her fingers tapped gently against Zazzalil’s belly. "You look so hot when you work, babe."

The gentlest of bites into the skin of her neck, never enough to leave a mark although who would have seen it, cloistered up inside without another soul they knew for weeks to come? Zazzalil took Jemilla’s hand and led it back up to her breasts, the tank top bunched up at her armpits but pulling it off entirely would make her feel ashamed of such little dedication to her work.

"Just the fun bits," she replied. "I told you, I’m almost done."

" _Every_ bit of you is fun."

She was emboldened by the permission and her thumb and finger trapped a nipple to tease and excite. Zazzalil bit back a moan. More and more, she was reminded of life before, how it had used to be, and wondered how Jemilla had put up with her constant interruptions when the roles had yet been reversed. Another few paragraphs, racking her brain for every rational thought left in it before they all fled away from the touch of Jemilla on her.

"That feels nice," she muttered.

"Yeah?"

Their sex life already not lacking in anything had become much more frenetic the longer they were stuck here. When all outside activities were canceled and forbidden, staying inside lit up a spark that they kept fanning day after day to soothe boredom and anxiety. In Jemilla’s good care, Zazzalil was hot and cozy and unbothered by anything going on in the world. And how much more so the other way around. Another paragraph. She sensed behind her Jemilla eyeing every word she typed.

"You're a smart piece of hot stuff," she said after Zazzalil put a period to a sentence she thought too was especially clever.

"I really am," Zazzalil said and leaned her head to the side to demand more neck kisses. "You’re so lucky we’re quarantined together, you can tap that flawless ass all you want."

Jemilla’s fingers pinched her to tease and chide and Zazzalil’s breath hitched. Last paragraph, her conclusion, though by now she had forgotten her train of thought that had been so clear earlier and every word came out sluggishly.

"No, _you’re_ lucky we’re quarantined. You can get it all you want."

That was true exactly the same as the opposite. They craved each other, needed each other. Jemilla and her were so singularly different, yet when they came together, she felt like a whole person all anew. There were so many parts of herself she had never paid attention to before Jemilla awakened them, in or out of bed. She put her final word to the page and instantly Jemilla’s fingers teased around the waistband again. They slid down as soon as she sent the file and Zazzalil let out a quiet whimper as they brushed past the bush of curls to press inside.

"Ah, shit."

Her head back against Jemilla’s shoulder, opening her legs better, she let herself be the object of all the attentions Jemilla was dying to pay her. Two fingers pushed in, angling up to drive her crazy, she had no idea how the same person who was her sassy, albeit awkward and needy girlfriend was also so sultry with the least effort.

"Can I fuck you?" Jemilla whispered now. "I really wanna fuck you."

Zazzalil gulped. Jemilla did have this way of turning silly to seductive from one breath to the next. She didn’t understand it, but she loved it. God, she fucking loved it. She nodded. Jemilla jumped to her feet and Zazzalil grunted in frustration at all contact gone at once. Her body had not had enough of Jemilla, not nearly, and the self-imposed anticipation had made her antsy. She closed her laptop, locked it in the nightstand and watched the same show of Jemilla strapping up the teal plastic dick as every day so far in quarantine − thank God they hadn’t forgotten that thing in the one hasty evening they had been given to pack up. They must have sterilized that crap dozens of times by now and yet, functional and unromantic as the preparation before and after always was, she never failed to feel the same twist in her guts at how much she wanted Jemilla to fuck her with some overpriced piece of silicone. Being someone’s girlfriend did make you lose your mind a little.

"Take off your boxers," Jemilla said.

"Take them off yourself," Zazzalil retorted, laying back on the bed, her feet dangling at the edge of the bed as she leaned up on her elbows and gave a daring smile.

Jemilla snorted. One knee of the bed, the other firmly on the ground to stand more stable, she tugged at the boxers and Zazzalil at least made the task easier and lifted up her hips and legs for her. She loved the glint in Jemilla’s eyes, how warm and brown and soft they were, how much she trusted her from just one look. Jemilla’s thumb brushed against her clit heavily, too heavily but she knew what she was doing, a little payback for the sass. Reaching behind the pillow, she grabbed the lube and generously spread some across the length of the strap-on. Zazzalil always thought that unneeded, worked up as she was, but Jemilla had a way of doing things and her way was always excellent, so she let her take charge of whatever needed done in her own eyes.

"You ready?" Jemilla smirked.

Zazzalil hooked her legs around her waist, pulling her onto the bed with her and, brought so close on top, Jemilla leaned down to kiss her.

"Fuck me, then," Zazzalil said in a low voice just to be heard by her, nothing in the world beyond the two of them. "What are you waiting for?"

Jemilla guided the dildo into her in one quick snap of her hips and Zazzalil groaned out much louder, which made Jemilla smile and kiss her a lot more softly. Her hand caught Zazzalil’s and gathered them above her head as she pushed herself up to better look down at her. With the other, she tugged up the tank top again, played with her breasts as they bounced.

"You’re pretty," she said. Another kiss, like a reward. Her pace was steady and just a little too fast, too hurried, like she couldn’t contain herself. "You’re perfect."

She leaned down and paused for just a moment to have a taste of Zazzalil’s breast, popping a nipple into her mouth and Zazzalil tore a hand from her grasp to bury it in Jemilla’s curls, to hold onto her. Jemilla leaned up again and grabbed the disobedient hand. Zazzalil pouted. She loved the way Jemilla’s face flushed with the slight effort, how warm it was.

"Touch me if I can’t do it myself, then."

They smiled at each other. Jemilla loved nothing better than a challenge and Zazzalil had every intention on challenging her for all and everything, every step of the way. It was a ridiculous push and pull that made complete sense, teasing just past the limit but always with the knowledge that the other could take it, wanted to take it. Jemilla balanced herself better, parting Zazzalil’s legs for her greater comfort, and a hand slid right between them to rub her clit with every thrust. Zazzalil had used to wonder how many people she must have railed to be this smooth at it − the answer was eight, but Jemilla swore the talent had been innate anyways. Under her attentions, Zazzalil easily believed it.

"A little slower," Zazzalil muttered.

Jemilla went a little slower, but deeper to compensate, more focused. She sat back a little to free her arm from having to lean and held her waist instead. Zazzalil loved being held by her, fucked by her. She never felt quite as desirable and precious as in Jemilla’s good hands. The way Jemilla looked at her too, like she was something deliciously tempting but also like a girlfriend she cared for and valued. Lust and trust blending into one single feeling.

"That feels nice?" She asked.

The circles of her fingertips heavy around her clit, the thrusts of her hips so easy to lose herself into, Zazzalil relaxed and smiled up lazily.

"Yeah," she breathed out. "Yeah, it feels amazing."

She loved the pride in Jemilla’s smile, how much she wanted to please her. She might be half too lazy even in bed, but she took only what Jemilla was so eager to give. Fingers toying with the hem of Jemilla’s t-shirt, she was immediately understood and Jemilla pulled it off in one quick gesture. She grinned. Often, she couldn’t believe how beautiful Jemilla truly was, perhaps because much more so than her, Jemilla made a point to pay very forward compliments in a way Zazzalil did not always feel the nerve to. She thought, she hoped that she still knew.

"We’re switching things up," Jemilla said suddenly.

She pulled out at once, leaving Zazzalil all frustration and desperately empty of her − or the teal silicone extension of her. Her wet fingers caught Zazzalil’s and brought them to her lips for kisses.

"Turn around, babe."

Zazzalil turned around, immediately rewarded by the firm grasp at her hips arranging her properly, positioning her just right. She sighed in relief as soon as Jemilla pushed herself back inside and rested her head comfortably on her folded arms. Jemilla’s hands spread across her ass cheeks and grabbed her just so to push into her again and again. The least amount of work for her, Zazzalil thought with amusement, all the better.

"You can touch yourself now," Jemilla said. She leaned down and Zazzalil felt in every detail the press of her breasts at her back, the tickle of her hair against her neck, a hand pushing her ponytail to the side and the press of a kiss at the nape. "If you wanna."

Zazzalil shook her head. She was plenty comfortable just as she was. Jemilla always, always made a point to make her come anyways, and always first. If it took a little longer without the extra help from herself, then it would take just the right amount. Jemilla snorted at her refusal but, far from perturbed, applied herself to her flawless lovemaking with or without Zazzalil’s efforts.

"I’m sorry I distracted you," she said much more quietly.

With every thrust she filled her so perfectly, always so in control, sensing what Zazzalil needed before she had a clue herself. A hand slid from her waist to her breast, up again to rest against Zazzalil’s shoulder as she picked up a pace the slightest bit more hurried.

"Nah, it was worth it," Zazzalil said. Jemilla gave a deeper push and made her moan. Without seeing it, she could guess the smirk of satisfaction from the huff she heard. "You fuck me so good, babe."

"I do, don’t I?" Zazzalil wondered if this made narcissists out of them, the way each compliment paid to one another was never modestly denied but always readily taken and decupled. "I’m the b… Oh, fuck."

She paused with the dildo half pulled out and Zazzalil heard some shuffling behind. She was about to glance but Jemilla started again, gripping her waist again all the tighter now.

"The buckles were loose," Jemilla explained. She laughed awkwardly. "You see what you make out of me? You dislocate my strap."

"Unhinged as fuck," Zazzalil sneered. "I’m too powerful."

She felt the warm breath against the back of her neck as Jemilla covered it with kisses and nibbles.

"You are." Finally a hand between her legs again, fingers at her clit to accompany every motion. Zazzalil whimpered in satisfaction. Always perfectly taken care of, the center of attention to please her to her smug heart’s content. "You’re so hot, Zazz."

Now finding it in her to put in some effort, she pushed herself back into every thrust of Jemilla’s hips. She did feel hot. She felt like she was burning bright. Her hands bunched up the fabric underneath and her mouth fell open in a silent moan as, sensing a hint of urgency, Jemilla applied herself all the more. She kissed up Zazzalil’s neck, up to her ear where she kissed the lobe before whispering.

"Now."

She saw a million stars behind her closed eyes as she came. Jemilla kissed her neck again like a reward, gave her the best send-off, focused and devoted till finally Zazzalil groaned one last time and was done. Jemilla pulled out and got off the bed to unbuckle the whole thing and, Zazzalil noted with unveiled interest, to remove the underwear she had kept. She smiled at the sight, at how comfortable and satisfied she felt. She might have laid there ass up in the air indefinitely if it weren’t for Jemilla, with the flat of a hand on top of said ass, pulling her right into her embrace as she laid back on the bed. Zazzalil was still breathing heavy but the feel of Jemilla’s arms around her always calmed her and she cuddled close. A soft kiss on top of her hair, another in the crook of Jemilla’s shoulder to repay it.

"There," she said. "Are you feeling better?"

Jemilla sighed. Her fingers toyed with damp hair at Zazzalil’s temple, the few rogue curls loosened from the ponytail.

"A little."

Of course, each of them had her own way of unwinding from the fears of the present situation. Jemilla cleaned and organized a place that wasn’t even theirs, Zazzalil poured herself into her schoolwork and her studies. Together, though, they let off some steam in the best, the horniest ways possible.

"You want me to eat you out?"

Jemilla’s fingers at the back of her neck, in her hair, her other hand at her shoulder. Jemilla’s leg between hers, the warmth of her soft skin all around her. Zazzalil had never felt at home before Jemilla opened her arms to her.

"Yeah."

They glanced at each other and kissed, which Jemilla lingered on a little, a hand at Zazzalil’s cheek. But Zazzalil tore herself from the embrace. Sliding down to the ground, she knelt by the edge of the bed, pulled Jemilla’s hips to her and wrapped her legs around her shoulders. She knew that Jemilla wasn’t especially a giant but she always felt like she was drowning in the clutch of her legs when they were around her. She liked that a lot.

"You’ve been needy," she said, kisses up Jemilla’s inner thighs, where her skin was so soft, hot and presently a little sweaty. "You’re lucky we’re trapped together."

"I know," Jemilla sighed at the first touch of Zazzalil’s fingers pushing up soaked curls of hair to touch her clit. "I like you so much, you know. I wouldn’t wanna be trapped with anyone else, even if we weren’t fucking."

"That’s a bold lie," Zazzalil said. Jemilla was so hot and wet already, always on fire whenever she’d had Zazzalil pinned down under her. She loved to show she cared, Zazzalil loved to lay there and receive it. They worked so well together. All she could do was repay the favor afterwards. "You wouldn’t last a day without doing it."

The flat of her tongue licking up all of her bottom to top, stopping at the clit to pay it special attention. She loved to get to work second, so that half of it was already done for her. Her tongue up inside Jemilla and she closed her eyes to better enjoy the moment. Her delicious girlfriend, her insufferable teasing girlfriend, the first and only person she could ever see herself spend a large chunk of her life with, perhaps even the rest of it. If quarantine only made her crave her more, she couldn’t imagine what would ever tear them apart.

"That’s what I get for trying to charm you up," Jemilla sighed but the press of Zazzalil’s fingers inside her distracted her and she moaned − her moan was so fucking hot, but then, all of Jemilla was a big cocktail of hot and sexy. "Fuck, that’s nice, do that again."

Zazzalil repeated the motion. Jemilla the control freak, Jemilla the bossy lover who would tell her how to please her, but what was the gain in stubbornly refusing to listen? Jemilla was all sass, all confidence, but she was also filled with love in a way that Zazzalil could hardly comprehend. Her good care was universal and made Zazzalil’s selective circle of loved one seem like a selfish joke. Even a pandemic didn’t have her worried about her own health but rather for all the have-nots of the world, and for her friends, her mother. Molag was no longer young and had smoked for decades. Jemilla had rambled on and on with and about her, but there was nothing to be done. Nothing but losing her fears in moments of bliss such as these, if she allowed herself to.

"Mmh, just like that…"

But despite her words, Zazzalil could feel her a little tense still, no matter how much she tried to hide it. A hand flat on her stomach, she felt it hard in a way that wasn’t just from her daily YouTube workouts. She tickled fingers against it to grab her attention.

"J-Mills," she mumbled, barely lifting her mouth. "Relax."

"Uh huh," Jemilla nodded much too enthusiastically. "Yeah, I’m relaxed as fuck, babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about."

The muscles were still tensed up but Zazzalil dropped it. One finger pressing inside, another one after noting how easily the first had slipped in, her lips pursing around the clit to lavish it with attention. The way Jemilla’s breath came a little shorter made all the effort of pleasing her so wholly worth it. Jemilla was hard to please, but Zazzalil was hard to resist. Even a day without it would be a feat for either of them. They had done it already that very morning as they had woken up (still at Jemilla’s 6 am alarm for the one and two-ish hours later for the other), not that she was complaining. Jemilla’s heels dug in her back to bring her even closer, lost in the heat of her.

"You’re so good, babe," she said. "You’re so hot."

"Yeah," Jemilla moaned. "You’re good too, babe."

Her hands cupped her breasts for her own pleasure and Zazzalil reached up so that their fingers clasped together around one. Her closed eyes, the way she bit her lip, how she pushed herself into Zazzalil’s mouth, so demanding and so fucking hot.

"And you’re the best girlfriend and I love you."

Immediately Jemilla’s eyes snapped open wide with surprise, her hands stopping where they were. She stared at Zazzalil and her jaw dropped but, usually so chatty, always a piece to say, no words ever came out.

Zazzalil had not meant to say that. She had not meant to never say it, either. Now that the confession had been uttered, she knew at once that it was true for the way her heart was fluttering in her chest, her eyes blinking dumbly. Jemilla and her looked at each other with a new intent, a spark that had not been there before, or rather it had been buried and Zazzalil had now brought it to light.

"I love you," she repeated.

Much more slowly, slower than Jemilla usually suffered but Zazzalil couldn’t stand to rush the moment, her tongue darted out again and teased gentle circles around Jemilla’s swollen clit. She bit her lip again like she was afraid of what she might say if she let herself. Leaning up on her elbows, she said nothing instead, smiling down at Zazzalil with such fondness she knew that she had all the time in the world to hear the words reciprocated. She saw their match right in Jemilla’s gaze.

"I love you."

Fingers pumping in and out slowly. She added a third, which made Jemilla give a muffled moan. With the other hand she cupped her breast again, flattening her thumb against the hardened nipple to better caress it. Jemilla’s legs tightened around her shoulders, trapped her face in a vice Zazzalil never wanted to leave. A bolder caress at her clit, something more the likes of what Jemilla wanted. Everything was soft and slick and intoxicating and she wanted to capture the moment forever, to always live in this instant of pleasuring the woman she loved.

"Say it again," Jemilla whispered.

Not a heartbeat of hesitation.

"I love you." She pushed up her fingers, more sure of herself now, pinched the nipple to tease and to please. "I love you."

Jemilla was loose and more relaxed than ever before, wholly in the moment here with her, any anxiety or any other thought at all gone from the both of them. Even she came it was with softness, an amorous sigh, her hand covering Zazzalil against her breast and, in this moment much more importantly, her heart. Clamped around Zazzalil’s fingers, she was hot and slowly calming down before she crashed back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling.

"Yeah, so I love you too," she said.

Zazzalil smiled, feeling ridiculously goofy and happy. She nearly bounced, so excited she was as she got back on the bed and she buried her face into Jemilla’s chest to beg for an embrace readily given. They clutched each other and grinned. She was so full of this newly admitted emotion, so stuffed with love she could barely take it.

"So, you’re free for the weekend, huh?" Jemilla asked after some time. "After that essay?"

Zazzalil nodded. She loved hearing the beat of Jemilla’s heart right under her ear when she held her. She loved Jemilla.

"Good," Jemilla said. "I think I just found some weekend plans right here."

She snorted. As if they had the choice but to stay in here anyways. Somehow, though, the offer was even more tempting than before and the very thought of leaving the bed she shared with Jemilla was insufferable. Maybe the urgency might become a bit more dull over the weeks or months left stuck here, but it might not, and in all cases it would wholly never fade away. Pandemic or not, Zazzalil thought that there was very little in the world who could ever tear her from Jemilla’s arms again.


End file.
